The Lioness's Bite
by drippingwithsin
Summary: What happens when Pansy serves detention with McGonagall? Well, lets just say there is only room for one queen in Hogwarts.


Timid as a field mouse, Pansy stepped into the Transfiguration classroom. Her heart pounded and nervous sweat prickled her temples. Professor McGonagall along with Bellatrix were the only two women alive that struck this much fear within her. Even more so by the Head of Gryffindor especially since she happened to have overheard Bellatrix chatting with Narcissa about hoping the Dark Lord would not assign her to quote on quote put the old lioness down. At first, Pansy thought she simply didn't want to do it because it would not have been much of a challenge for the demented witch that was until she heard Narcissa hum in agreement and mention something about McGonagall killing five of their best deatheaters last go round.

With that tidbit of information in mind she began to give the Professor a wide berth and when on the rare occasions McGonagall actually spoke to her she'd uncharacteristically show respect. It all worked out perfectly well for a while, nobody seemed to notice since most were frightened of the McGonagall anyways that is until today.

The Transfiguration Mistress sat at her ancient mahogany desk sipping daintily on a teacup when she glanced upward to look at Pansy over her half mooned glasses. "I think you owe me an explanation, Ms. Parkinson." She spoke in a domineering tone that made the hairs on the back of the girl's neck stand at full attention.

"Explanation?" Pansy barely muttered, trying to appear ignorant.

"Don't play me for a fool, girl. You know very well what I am talking about."

"I owe you nothing the mu-Granger she-Enough!" McGonagall slapped the desktop hard enough to make the dishes rattle and cause Pansy to jump. "What you did earlier was highly uncalled for not to mention childish, Ms. Parkinson."

"But she-You called Ms. Granger mudblood and poured a bottle of ink on her work in the middle of one of my lessons. For that little display you are going to write me a four foot essay on the importance of getting along with others."

Pansy sneered at the other woman. "I will do no such thing."

"You will take this punishment or I will have a little chat with Professor Snape about your Head Girl badge. Now sit down, Ms. Parkinson."

The brunette slunk down into her chair and crossed her arms with a pout firmly in place. "This is so bloody unfair!"

McGonagall gave the pureblooded girl a stern look. "Language, Ms. Parkinson!" She stood, took parchment and quill from the drawer and strolled over to Pansy where she placed them on the desktop. "Now commence writing." She ordered then went back to her own desk.

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><p>A few long awkward minutes passed before Pansy finally lost herself in the words and the soothing scratching of a quill against parchment. She was nearly halfway complete when she felt eyes upon her. Furrowing her brow, she lifted her head and nearly gasped.<p>

McGonagall was staring straight at her, with features unreadable. She was mature but not at all old: her hair black streaked with silver was pulled back in a tight severe bun, her face held beauty but was tarnished by the harsh look upon it, her eyes a piercing emerald was locked upon Pansy now as if reading her very soul.

Pansy shivered there was something in those orbs. Something she'd only ever seen before in boys' eyes when she wore a low cut blouse. Lust. She swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly dry.

Minerva stood. Putting her teacup down with a clack, she stepped around her desk and approached the girl. Once she reached her, she leaned downward until Pansy felt the moisture from heated breaths bathe her ear in puffs and smell the alluring floral perfume mixed with something else that was distinctively McGonagall. It was all so oddly tantalizing yet frightening. "Do you hate this, Ms. Parkinson? Having to follow orders from someone you no doubt loathe." She hissed, her voice hypnotizing and seductive. "Answer me!" The command was shouted right in her ear and frightened her so much she nearly tumbled from the chair.

Pansy swallowed thickly trying fruitlessly to steel her nerves. "Yes, Professor."

A low throaty chuckle. "I think you're lying. If fact, I think...that you rather enjoy this."

"No, Professor."

"Oh yes, you enjoy someone giving you orders."

"No..no I don't."

She let out a condescending hum. "We shall see. Now;" Minerva tapped her knee. "lift your robes up fully to your waist, Ms. Parkinson."

"Wha..No."

"Now! Ms, Parkinson." She snapped, her patience at its breaking point.

Seeing no other option, Pansy exhaled a trembling breath and her hands reached down and slowly lifted up her robes along with the skirt underneath.

Reaching out, she put a hand on Pansy's newly exposed leg and slowly trailed her fingers upward until she just barely grazed the soaked fabric of a thin pair of knickers. The touch was light but sent a shock-wave through the girl's body causing her to gasp. McGonagall smirked wickedly making the Head of Gryffindor appear strangely Slytherin. "Naughty girl, lying to your professor I should take some points away for that." Her fingers were getting a lot more interesting in their movements and Pansy couldn't help but moan. Minerva responded to the sound with an abrupt laugh, again amused at her new power over this so called Slytherin Queen.

Suddenly though, she moved the hand from the soaking wet core and cupped Pansy's chin. She turned the girl's head slightly to face her before she slammed their lips together. Thin lips moved over plump, and a tongue darted out immediately seeking entrance into the latter. Blue eyes widen in shock and Pansy attempted to protest only to have a tongue shoved down her throat. The wicked little muscle greets her own in rough swipes forcing movement and interaction.

Minerva pulled back taking the plump bottom lip between her teeth. She kneads and suckles, making the lower swell and ache. The Headmistress leaned back and examined her work. Satisfied, she straightened herself then stepped back. "First part of your detention is to strip for me. Not everything though, leave your tights and high heels on. Just your outer robe and whatever you have underneath."

"Yes, Professor." Pansy removed her outer robe revealing a black extremely tight corset and mid-length shirt. Upon seeing her apparel, Minerva tsked and shook her head in disappointment. "Such a tart you are. Have you been seeking clothing advice from Madam LeStrange of late?" Pansy did not respond instead she ground her teeth together and began the process of untying the intricate strings binding the corset together. Once done she cast it aside then undid the hook and zip on my skirt. Letting it drop to the ground, she carelessly kick it aside.

"Don't be so untidy, Ms. Parkinson." McGonagall chastised as if speaking to a child about cleaning their room. "Pick them up and fold them neatly. Place them on the desk. After that, turn to face me kneel before me, hands behind your head, knees apart."

Pansy complied with everything she had asked. Too far gone now to even care anymore. When she was done McGonagall looked over her hungrily like a starved animal would a piece of meat.

"Nice breasts, pert, perhaps a tad too large but they fit you well. I see you shave your pubic hair, whatever are you girls getting up to these days?" She tsked once more and to her surprise Pansy felt a slight twinge of shame. "I bet Ms. Granger doesn't prepare her body like a brothel whore." The shame turned to anger. She would be cruel enough to bring up the mudblood at this time. "No not at all. Why, I'm willing to bet that her body is quite... virginal." Minerva saturated over and began circling the girl like the big cat she is.

Pansy hummed as if contemplating before bitterly lashing out in retaliation. "Well, perhaps I shall find out for myself just what Granger has underneath all those robes of hers."

A frightening animistic growl echoed throughout the room just before a hand came down and clamped around the back of her neck. It squeezed. Not hard enough to be painful but enough to warn the girl she'd best to trend carefully especially when a certain favorite cub was mentioned. "Kneel."

When she didn't comply right away the pressure at the back of her neck increased forcing her upper-body down until her cheek was pressed firmly against the hard frigid stone below. After a moment the hand left only to be replaced by a foot on her behind. The brunette gave a slight yelp of pain when a boot dug in slightly. A cruel chuckle rang out then Pansy heard the whoosh of fabric being moved followed a second later by heavy breathing and knew then what was going on. The bitch was wanking to her humiliation. Alabaster skin burned in mortification. How could she let this get so far?

A couple of more groans and the boot was thankfully removed. "Lean upward on your knees." Relief flooded and Pansy did as she was told only to have it was replaced by disgust when a damp hand was swiped over her lips. "Lick." Pansy obeyed, she didn't know why but she did so. The taste wasn't as unpleasant as she first assumed. Musky yet tart with a twinge of sweet it defiantly was unique.

"Good girl." McGonagall cooed and inside Pansy preened. Pulling her hand away, she straightened and stared down at the nearly nude girl. "Stroke yourself."

All too edger to end this and have a much needed orgasm, Pansy's right-hand reached for her soaked knickers and pulled them down to halfway between her pussy and knees. She began touching herself. With one finger she stroked lightly over her clit and felt a spark of electricity between her legs. Her eyes fell shut as she increased the pressure of her finger and pressed down harder. She was so wet she could feel moisture tickling from herself and onto her fingers. She began touching herself with two fingers and sped up the tempo as she moved them in steady circles over her clit. The relief of finally touching herself was exquisite so she knew wouldn't last.

But just as she was about to tumble over the edge. Minerva's voice cut through the fog like a goblin-made dagger. "Remove your hand, Ms. Parkinson." Pansy whined but let her hand fall away nevertheless. "Ah such a good lil lass you are." Minerva praised and Pansy squealed towards the heavens when the older witch brought the toe of her boot down gently upon her swollen clit. Minerva smiled and began to move her foot slightly back and forth. The cold material combined with the pressure was nearly overwhelming but felt all so good.

Pansy bucked upward trying to get as much stimulation as possible. The smile widened into a full on grin. "Oh my I wonder just what those little friends of yours would say if they were to see you now; down on your knees and rutting against the sole of my boot like a dog in estrus." The Slytherin girl whimpered pathetically at the mere thought. They would outcast her. She'd be a social pariah. Lower than even a mudblood Hufflepuff. A traitorous hot tear fell from her eye down a flush cheek and Minerva, having spotted it, groaned in pleasure. "Oh now, t'will be alright." The circular motion of the boot sped up causing the rubber sole to slide delicious to and fro over her folds. She tilted her head back and moaned. "I'm sure you will do well mingling with the muggleborns." Not caring or just not listening anymore, Pansy thrust her hips against Minerva's foot, clenched her fingers and moaned. The older witch laughed. "That's it lit'l lass."

The heat continued to build and Pansy could feel her muscles begin to tighten and her skin getting hotter and just like that a orgasm came out of nowhere and slammed into her. Sending her skyrocketing over the edge and into a vast sea of ecstasy. Wave upon wave of pleasure sparked through her like electricity, making her hips and legs jerk and long, loud whimpers come from her mouth.

When it was over Pansy dared a glance upward only to see Minerva looking back. The older with removed her damp boot and frowned at just how much moisture was on it. "Alright, Ms. Parkinson you may get dressed and leave now."

"What about you?" Pansy questioned whilst she muttered the spell to dress herself.

Minerva let a little smile cross her features and shook her head. "Oh no, I wouldn't dare sully myself in that matter; especially not with the likes of you." Pansy sneered at the Transfiguration Mistress knowing now the consequences if she were to speak out and whipped around heading for the exit. "Oh and Ms. Parkinson." The Slytherin girl halted mid-step "I have yet to reward Ms. Granger for the exceptional essay she turned in today so do be a dear and send her in." Pansy ground her teeth so hard she was sure she heard one crack. "Yes, Professor." She exited, fuming with rage on the inside but nevertheless found herself walking towards the Gryffindor's common room.

**END**

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>I have zero excuse for this but I hope some people liked it and pretty please review. I've been thinking about writing another Minerva/Hermione one shot and all thoughts are welcome.


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